


La pared

by Zarigueya



Series: Possum's Reaper76 week [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Fluff, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Overwatch, Reaper76week2018, SEP era, Slow Burn, War, reaper76week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 06:21:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13381986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zarigueya/pseuds/Zarigueya
Summary: A hand reaches his arm, rough calluses caressing his skin, making his hair stand up. A foreign touch for him, ethereal, intimate enough to make his eyes sting.





	La pared

****“We are going to die here.”

 

The thought has been rattling around his head for a while already, like butterflies fluttering around sweet flowers, mostly due the lack of sleep and high dose of immunosuppressants he took on the past hours. However, it's been Gabriel the one who voiced up his thoughts; that’s something innate on his person, to be able to speak what goes through his mind.

 

“You can’t be sure.”

 

“We are going to _fucking_ die here, Morrison, let’s face the fa--.” Gabriel breaks down in a fit of hacking coughs that make his whole body shudder. Jack hurries to his side and the other soldier waves him off, a smile pulling from his lips “I'm fine, _boy scout_.”

 

Jack sighs through his nostrils, ducking his head, hand rubbing his nape. He suspects the wounds are deeper than Gabriel dares to admit. He looks around with tired eyes, the lack of light making hard for him to focus on a specific point. The building came down after the explosion of several bastion unities and they found themselves buried under the rubble. One of the pillars hangs over their heads, supported on the wall on their backs. Jack is sure another small explosion would make the rest of the structure collapse. That’s the only reason they haven’t blow up the wall behind them to get out.

 

They sink into silence again, the sound of Gabriel’s irregular breathing being the only thing they hear. Jack stares at the empty space, muscles sores, mouth dry. They ran out of water a couple of hours ago. He has no idea of how long they're going to last if help doesn't arrive soon.

 

Gabriel sits cross-legged, reaches his rifle and blows the dust of the surface. The tiny particles float on the air, barely visible in the light rays that filters through the cracks of the structure over their heads. Jack sides eye his partner, finding endearing how, despite being wound, he keeps the habit to take care of his guns. He did that all the time in the base. _He would take care of his guns before his own body,_ a superior said once.

 

 _Did._ The word pulls form the strings of his heart. No, Gabriel is still there with him. _He is here._

 

He wipes a hand over the front sight, making the metal gleam. Gabriel smiles --a weak, _tired_ smile--, the edges of his lips barely curving up. Jack looks away, as if he has stared at something lewd. He blames the insomnia, which he initially embraced --he needs to stay awake in case helps arrives--, but it started to become mortifying. At that point, his own body feels foreign to him; a heavy meat bag of bones.

 

He looks at his hands, pinches his clothes, realizes the fabric is dampened. He doesn’t know if it’s sweat or blood, too dark to tell, too tired to find out. A knot on his throat tightens, his stomach sinks, breath high pitches. The dam gives way, crippling anxiety on his gut, the sharp taste of bile going up his throat.

 

“Jack…”

 

His irises quiver, eyes looking for his partner on the dim light.

 

“ _What_ ” he breaths, haltingly.

 

A hand reaches his arm, rough calluses caressing his skin, making his hair stand up. A foreign touch for him, ethereal, _intimate_ enough to make his eyes sting.

 

He's been preparing for that moment since he joined the army. Getting older, hair going grey, getting married, having children; a peaceful life is something he never expected to live. And yet, it _scares_ him.

 

 _‘I’m here.’_ He meets Gabriel’s eyes, deep and dark under bushy eyelashes, keeping him still. Gabriel runs his fingers across his arm, as light as a feather caress.  _'We are together on this.'_ Gabriel doesn’t say a word but Jack swears he can hear him.‘  _I’m with you.’_

 _‘I’m_ here _.’_

 

Jack can’t tell for how long Gabriel touches him, and even after he stops, he still can feel his fingertips across his skin. After a while, he falls asleep; through his slumber he hears Gabriel singing, a song he doesn’t know on a language that isn’t his.

 

* * *

 

“Christmas is coming.” Jack slurs, randomly remembering it’s already 1st of december. After a short nap he feels better, not on his best condition, but more alert, his memory less blurred.

 

“Huh.” Gabriel shrugs, not looking too interested. “I don’t really celebrate it, Morrison.”

 

“You stay on the base during Christmas, right?”

 

“Yeah.” There is a small number of soldiers that, for any reason, can’t go back home during holidays. They are allowed to stay on the base, of course, and are often looked up for their passion and commitment.  “My mother isn’t exactly expecting me at home, and I prefer not to deal with my drunk old man. But I do call my sister to know how is she doing.”

 

Jack and Gabriel became friends quickly, clicking way faster than the other soldiers. Yet, personal matters isn’t something they talked about on the base. Most of their conversations went from military tactics to their favorite brand of beer or cigarettes.

 

“What about you?”

 

“Huh?”

 

Gabriel rests his chin on Jack’s shoulder and looks up at him. “You got plans?”

 

A series of images flash in front of his eyes: The small farm, his dad's old red truck, his mother’s fluffy mashed potatoes, the golden corn fiels covered with snow, a chocolate labrador running to him when he steps off the bus.

 

“I visit my parents.”

 

“Huh.” Gabriel looks away, sighing through his nose. “A good boy that pay a visit to his parents every Christmas. It suits you.”

 

“You should come.”

 

“What?” Gabriel arches his eyebrows.

 

Squeezing his lips together, Jack scratches his arm --the place where he was touch, feeling the skin still burning--; he side eyes Gabriel, the puzzled expression on his face making harder for him to speak again. “My mother makes… a ridiculous amount of food.” he starts, making a gesture with the hand “So, if you are interested, you should come and spend christmas with us.”

 

The soldier makes --or tries at least-- to make the invitation casual. He doesn’t want Gabriel to think he pities him --because he doesn't--, neither to wave off his words as if he is inviting him on a whim. When Gabriel stares at him instead of answering, he regrets opening his mouth at all.

 

They are probably in the worst scenario to make that kind of invitation.

 

Gabriel snorts, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe it. His expression is blissful, relaxed, he _gleams_ on the dark “You are so freaking corny, Morrison.” he playfully nudges his knuckles on his arm, the same place he touched before “Sure. If we get out of this, I’ll spend Christmas at your place.”

 

A positive answer is something he isn’t expecting, and he deduces he must look visibly surprised because Gabriel laughs again. “What’s with that face?”

 

“I-- didn’t think you would say yes…”

 

“You wanted me to say no?” Gabriel smirks.

 

“No!” Jack shakes his hands “No, no, I’m glad. I’m glad you said yes. I’m glad.”

 

“Chill, I’m playing with you.” Gabriel stretches his neck, tilting his head to the side. “Is there something I can do for you?”

 

“Something?”

 

“Something.” Gabriel mouths, looking suddenly serious “You invite me to your place for Christmas if we get out of this. Allow me to do something for you in exchange.”

 

“You don’t need to--”

 

“I want to do something for you, man, don’t be like this.” Gabriel insists, arms folded across his chest. “So?”

 

Jack scratches his arm again and stops when he realizes it might become a tic --an embarrassing one--. He fidgets, looks around and then back at Gabriel, who is waiting for an answer. “Eh… then, call me Jack.”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“Stop calling me Morrison, call me by me first name.” he nervously offers, furrowed brow “At this point we should be on first name basis already, don’t you think?”

 

That’s the dumbest petition ever, Jack admits to himself, but Gabriel seems satisfied --almost moved-- and, after calling him corny a second time, he accepts right away. Later Jack would regret not coming up with something more meaningful when the rescue unities arrived.

 

* * *

 

 

The rescuer who found them wrote down, on his personal report of the mission how weird had been their reactions when he found them. When a superior asked him why he wrote that, he explained that most of the soldiers he rescued collapsed the moment they saw him, some of them even pass out.

 

Soldiers 24 and 26 _laughed_. They laughed so hard they cried.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on twitter as @possssum  
> Thanks for reading :)


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